


howl

by monstermash



Series: memento mori (remember, you will die) [4]
Category: Far Cry (Video Games), Far Cry 5
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-05-02 22:32:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 18,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14554956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monstermash/pseuds/monstermash
Summary: screaming in the dark, i howl when we're apartdrag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> lmao this basically just a continuation of [this chapter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14314461/chapters/33604626) and both that chapter and this fic were because of [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eMC19MJ9kbs) and the fact that i'm hella weak for soulmate au's
> 
> EDIT: sorry y'all, this one's not going to be finished either.

The fact that Jacob Seed and Garrett Rook are soulmates is confirmed out in the woods underneath the full moon.

Jacob’s mouth is stained red with blood and they stare at each other, new matching bite marks on their necks. Despite being pinned to the earth by Jacob’s weight Garrett is thankful that he’s not standing right now, because he doesn’t think he’d be able to stand upright at the moment due to the way his head feels like it’s spinning, floating away. Garrett shrinks away - well, tries to; there's nowhere for him to go - when Jacob reaches out to wrap a hand around his throat, but Garrett’s blood is singing in his veins and Jacob doesn’t crush his windpipe, only holds tight enough to dissuade Garrett from trying to break free.

“You really are mine,” Jacob repeats, conflicting emotions in his voice though there’s a possessive glint in his eyes when Garrett shivers at the pressure pressed on the new marks on his neck.

The hand on Garrett’s neck squeezes once more as a warning and then Jacob is no longer keeping him pinned down. Instead, Jacob gets to his feet and lifts Garrett up and over his shoulder. There’s the urge to kick out, to fight and try to escape, but Garrett pushes it down; he isn’t naïve enough to think that Jacob doesn’t know what Staci did to help him escape and that Staci won't be punished for it somehow. Garrett will be able to help and protect his friend better if he knows what’s going on and if necessary – which it probably will be in the future – he can always figure out another way to escape.

Garrett does wriggle around a bit, like he’s trying to get away but it’s more of a token struggle because it’d be odd if he didn’t, but stops when Jacob’s grip on him tightens, almost painfully so. Another warning and Garrett heeds it, lets himself be carried back to St. Francis’ by his soulmate who turned out to be Jacob _fucking_ Seed.

He scowls when Jacob starts whistling _“Only You.”_

\---

There are a few changes when he’s taken back to St. Francis Veterans Hospital, the first being that Garrett isn’t put back in the cages in the courtyard. Instead he’s kept in Jacob’s room, only leaving when Jacob comes and takes him to the mess hall. So it’s still a cage, but one with privacy and an actual bathroom. 

One of the other changes he will notice later is that a lot of the Peggies don’t look at him with as much contempt as they used to. Mostly it’s stares of confusion and curiosity, but also wary looks, waiting for Garrett to strike, either at them or their beloved leader.

(Garrett never does though. If he did it would be a very, _very_ short altercation that would end with him either back in the cages outside or dead or lost in a haze of angry red.)

Another change is that Garrett sleeps in the same bed as Jacob. In all honesty he thought he’d have to sleep on the linoleum floor, but the night he tried to escape and was brought back Jacob had merely deposited him on the cot and climbed in after him, trapping Garrett in a tight embrace even after Jacob had dropped off into a restless sleep.

Needless to say, Garrett doesn’t sleep too much that night, only passing out when he felt Jacob’s breathing even out again, little warm puffs of breath ghosting over his ear.

When he wakes a few hours later Jacob is gone and the door is locked.

Not the greatest sign in the world, but Garrett’s more concerned about how gross he feels in his dirty, blood stained clothes. He actually startles when he catches sight of his reflection in the tiny bathroom’s mirror; there’s dirt smeared across one side of his face and the blood from being bit by Jacob has dried and comes off in flakes. Garrett looks like he spent a week out in the wilderness, just an absolute mess.

With a grimace he strips out of his ruined clothes and leaves them in a pile by the door. He keeps the shower short, efficient, runs the water so hot it’s scalding and just lets his mind go blank while he scrubs his skin clean.

It doesn’t take long, weeks old grime and blood sloughs off and goes down the drain, and then Garrett looks down at his left thigh, where the words carved from the one and only time he and Jacob ever spoke to each other before they ever met still remain. Scars. He rubs them with a thumb, feeling the raised edges of healed skin and Garrett wonders. Wonders why Jacob never responded after Garrett did, wonders why they only spoke through scars that one time.

Wonders if maybe he had tried speaking to Jacob through scars after that one instance if anything would have changed. If maybe there wouldn’t have been an Eden’s Gate, or that the cult wouldn’t have grown as strong as it had if he had intervened.

Shaking his head at himself, Garrett turns the water off and steps out of the shower stall, dries himself off. It won’t do him any good to get stuck on what-ifs or maybes; his time would be better spent thinking of ways to get Staci out of here and if Garrett could find a way to convince Jacob to… he doesn’t know, stop being part of a cult maybe?

Fuck, he doesn’t know – has pretty much no god damn clue what he’s doing at all – he just wants to sleep for a few years and go back to Falls End so he can freak out and have Mary May nearby so he doesn’t completely lose his mind.

With a groan, Garrett exits the bathroom back into Jacob’s room, at a loss as to what he should do next. Get dressed probably, but he grimaces at the thought of putting his dirty clothes back on after just taking a shower. He toes at them, checking to see if they really are that dirty and yeah, they really, truly are. He’ll have to clean them at some point, but that’s a problem for future Garrett.

Right now the lack of sleep is starting to weigh down on him, so Garrett crawls back into the cot and cocoons himself in the thin sheet. He ignores the thrill of contentment he feels in his heart when he can smell his soulmate in the sheets.

\---

Garrett wakes again a little while later to see that Jacob has returned.

Jacob sits at his desk on the other side of the room, going through documents and writing in the margins. Garrett watches him lazily from where he’s still curled up on the cot; watches the way his muscles in his arms move, used to more laborious tasks than paperwork, watches how Jacob’s jaw clicks when he reads something that he doesn’t like.

The point is, is that Garrett has been watching him closely for a few minutes now, so he sees how Jacob tenses up for an incredibly brief moment before looking up and holding Garrett’s gaze. And they just stare at each other, continue to stare at each other as Jacob rises from his chair and walks over to the cot, Garrett having to tilt his head back to maintain this weird staring contest.

This time when Jacob reaches out Garrett forces himself to remain stock-still – like prey trying to anticipate a predator’s next move – and inhales sharply when there are fingers running over the scars around his left eye. 

Garrett is dying to know where his friend is, what punishment Jacob has dealt Staci, but refrains from asking. He doesn’t know what will happen if he does ask, if he’ll only make things worse for Staci. Better to just wait and get a more of a feel for the situation at hand.

Jacob crouches down, sits back on his heels, still feeling at the rough scars with one hand and resting his head on the other, almost looking bored. The only thing that gives him away is the look in his eyes.

“So your old man did this, huh?”

He’s surprised that Jacob even remembers that, but then again he also has the short conversation scarred onto his own thigh so Garrett shouldn’t be all that surprised.

“Yeah.”

“How?” Jacob asks and Garrett wants to fucking laugh at their stilted conversation. Loud, bordering on hysterical laughter, but he pushes the urge down. Soulmates they might be, but that doesn’t mean they actually know how to interact with each other.

“Dad shoved my face into broken glass,” he tells Jacob quietly, as if speaking too loud would break this weird mood. Garrett catches the slight click in Jacob’s jaw, the way it distorts the burns a little. Then there’s curiosity pushing up from within Garrett and he reaches out and lightly touches the burns on Jacob’s face.

“How’d these happen? I’ve always wondered.” Garrett figures that's a safe enough question, though _“safe”_ is up for interpretation here.

“Burn pits,” is Jacob’s clipped reply.

They fall silent after that, but still trace the scars on each other’s faces, practically petting one another, and it’s weird. It’s so fucking weird because they’re soulmates, but up until recently Garrett was pretty sure Jacob had been trying to kill him so this change in attitude is so out of left field.

Eventually Jacob begins to pull away and Garrett, though he’s loathe to admit it, is reluctant to part with one of the few non-violent touches he’s had in months, so he turns his head and presses his lips to the palm of Jacob’s hand. Garrett can feel the twitch of muscle and bone beneath his lips, hears a sharp intake of breath. Then Garrett pulls away, curls back up in the sheets. He can feel Jacob’s gaze burning into him as he does so. A few moments later Garrett hears Jacob move away, back to the work waiting for him at his desk. Every now and then he can feel Jacob looking at him.

Garrett shifts onto his other side so he’s facing the wall, mostly to hide a smug smile, but also so he can have some privacy to freak out quietly about what the hell he thinks he’s doing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd just like to point out - i'll probably have it brought up later in the fic, but just in case i don't or i forget to, i'll say it here too - that in this au none of the seeds have been killed. garrett has mostly just fucked up a lot of shit in all three regions, but hasn't gotten far enough to actually have had a final confrontation with either john or faith, though he did manage to rescue hudson from john's bunker when he was escaping, so hudson is just hanging out in falls end plotting her revenge against john lmao

Garrett had been dreaming of the last time he went hunting with Jess and Grace when he wakes and it’s dark save for the moonlight coming in through the window.

Staring blearily at the slowly spinning ceiling fan, he tries to figure out what woke him. Sure, he’s pretty much slept the day away after that odd moment with Jacob, but Garrett doesn’t remember the last time he slept before his failed escape attempt but knows that he definitely could’ve slept until daybreak easily.

Then he hears it; a grunt of distress and Garrett barely manages to press himself flat against the wall to avoid one of Jacob’s arms lashing out.

Garrett’s heart is thudding loudly in his ears, his mind telling him to get away while also telling him to reach out and comfort his soulmate who is in the throes of a nightmare. He does neither, keeps himself silent and still, assessing the situation. Eyes snapping open, Jacob lurches up and out of the bed, looking for something in the dark that clearly isn’t there.

The urge to reach out grows stronger, because despite all the fucked up shit that has happened Jacob Seed is still his soulmate and he wants to be able to help him in some way, but Garrett takes in the tense line of his shoulders and the fighting posture and thinks better of it. So instead of touching Jacob – which Garrett thinks might actually be a very bad idea right now, especially considering he doesn’t even really know the guy, doesn’t know the best way to help – Garrett says his name, repeats it until his voice finally makes a dent in whatever waking dream Jacob seems to be having.

“Jacob. Jacob,” Garrett calls softly, keeping his eyes trained on Jacob’s silhouette. “There’s no one else in here, you’re safe. It’s okay, there’s nothing there.”

It takes a while, but eventually Jacob’s shoulders relax and Garrett is able to coax him back into the cot that is a little too cramped for two adults to share. Jacob’s eyes are still open, half-lidded and unseeing, but clearly not awake, not really. This time Garrett does take a chance on reaching out, slow and cautious, now that Jacob is calm.

He runs his fingers through red hair, watches as Jacob practically goes boneless, completely relaxes into the mattress, eyelids drooping lower but still not closed. So Garrett just… starts talking. Keeps his tone low and soothing, talks about the first thing that comes to mind and just runs with it, tells him about the time Billy chipped his tooth when they were kids because Billy thought trying to do a handstand on a skateboard was a good idea.

“He was so fuckin’ proud of it too,” Garrett murmurs, the corners of his mouth quirking into a smile at the memory. “Billy thought it’d impress Jody Petersen. He was convinced they were soulmates, so you can imagine his shock when her soulmate turned out to be someone else.”

Garrett holds his breath when Jacob shifts, rolls halfway on top of him and shoves his face against Garrett’s neck. When nothing else happens, Garrett sighs and goes back to running his fingers through Jacob’s hair.

“Good talk, buddy.”

\---

The next time he wakes up the sun is barely up and his pile of filthy clothes and Jacob are both gone.

 _I was going to clean those you prick,_ Garrett thinks and narrows his eyes at the more than likely locked door. Throwing his legs over the side of the cot, Garrett gets up and searches the room for clothes he can wear. It’s a quick search, the dresser in the corner of the room filled with a surprisingly small amount of what he assumes are Jacob’s clothes, which is nothing but gray T-shirts and jeans.

Well… it’s better than staying naked.

The jeans are a little too long in the leg, the T-shirt a little too loose, but they don’t look too ridiculous on him; Garrett is tall, but Jacob is taller and broader than he is. Doesn’t bother with his boots though, doesn’t think he’ll really be able to go anywhere that would require them.

Once he’s dressed Garrett goes over to the door and tries to open it. Locked again. If he really wanted to, he could probably find a way to open it, but decides to just stay put; it’ll be easier to gain trust if he just stays and doesn’t cause too much trouble. Garrett isn’t a fan of being stuck in this room, but he can deal with it.

There isn’t much in Jacob’s room, just the cot, his desk, the dresser, and a couch that has seen better days in front of the window that overlooks the courtyard. Basically the place is bare, little to no personal things, and if Garrett didn’t already know that this is Jacob’s room he would’ve thought it belonged to one of the many Peggies that live here.

There aren’t even any books lying around, just loose pages of what he assumes are reports about the Militia’s movements or information about the few outposts that Garrett hadn’t gotten around to liberating before being captured by one of Jacob’s hunting parties. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted to go through the pages, get as much information as he can, but he doesn’t know when Jacob will be back and he’d rather not get caught red-handed when he’s trying to earn the man’s trust.

So Garrett compromises.

He opens the window and sits on the old couch, folding his arms on the back of it and resting his head on top, and watches the compound come to life the higher the sun climbs in the sky. It’s not a lot, but at least this way he can keep an eye out for Staci and learn the daily routine and patrol movements. After a few hours the inactivity makes his hands twitch, eager to move to do _something_ other than sit here and watch. He makes his hands into fists in an effort to calm himself, but his nails dig into his palms, making crescent shaped cuts in his flesh.

Garrett’s never done well with just sitting around. 

Eventually heavy clouds roll in, heralding the arrival of the rainy season; casting a gloomy light to everything and the smell of impending rain has Garrett aching to be out in the woods with his recurve in hand. It isn’t until the rain has started that Garrett even notices Jacob has returned.

There’s that telltale sense of being watched and when he turns to look behind him Jacob is standing in the doorway, hand resting on the knob with that possessive glint in his eye again. It’s surprising how silently Jacob can move without Garrett even noticing; makes him glad that Jacob doesn’t seem so hell-bent on murdering him anymore.

They have another odd staring contest, sizing each other up. Jacob looks like he has something to say so Garrett waits. 

And waits.

And waits.

Jacob’s mouth opens like he’s finally figure out what he wants to say, but then it snaps shut into a scowl.

“Follow,” Jacob grits out and moves out of the threshold and down the hall, leaving the door wide open.

Garrett rolls his eyes but does as he’s told and follows after his soulmate.

Following Jacob through the halls of the hospital, Garrett does his best to memorize every twist and turn until he gets distracted by the growing scent of food and his stomach rumbles with the distant thunder. He hadn’t realized how hungry, how _starving,_ he was, unable to recall the last time he ate something that wasn’t the questionable raw meat given to the people kept in the cages outside.

He has to force himself not to eat too fast once he has warm food in front of him, partially because he doesn’t want to get sick but also because he doesn’t want Jacob to get any ideas about controlling how often Garrett gets to eat as a way of holding more power over him; Garrett’s not under any kind of illusion, he’s well aware that Jacob holds most of the cards right now and that if he thinks he can use something against Garrett, he will, soulmate or not.

Garrett can feel Jacob watching him again, like he isn’t quite sure what to make of him, what to do with him, and honestly Garrett feels the same way. He doesn’t know what to make of Jacob either or what to do with him other than try to find a way to make this work out without everything going to hell immediately.

Oh a whim – in retrospect, a really fucking dumb whim that he’s lucky didn’t end badly because it really could have – Garrett hooks an ankle around Jacob’s under the table and continues eating like he didn’t just do that. The only reaction it gets from Jacob is him cocking his head slightly to one side and allowing it, allowing Garrett’s odd attempt at… affection? Yeah, probably that.

Jacob tucks in to his own meal, words never once passing between them, though they probably should actually work on trying to talk to each other. Their ankles remained linked until Jacob takes Garrett back to his room.

He stays, sits at his desk going over more reports, and Garrett returns to watching the cultists going about their day down below.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pacing the story? i don't know her
> 
> lmao i'm not sure how i feel about this chapter, but it had to get done to keep the story moving forward. like honestly, all i can say about this is "well that escalated quickly"
> 
> then again this isn't supposed to be a long fic anyway so pacing is gonna be kind of weird

It’s been about a week, nearly two, and Garrett has already fallen into a routine. 

Wake up, shower, observe the courtyard until Jacob comes back, eat, return to the room and either go back to watching the courtyard or sit close to his soulmate and try to discreetly read the reports, eat again if Jacob remembers, go to sleep, be woken up in the middle of the night, calm Jacob, go back to sleep.

Honestly it’s the best Garrett has taken care of himself in a while, getting more than a couple of hours of rest every other day. He assumes this is the most sleep Jacob has gotten in a long time as well, considering the bruises under his eyes have started to fade; not a lot but enough that Garrett notices.

But what gets him, what really drives Garrett up the wall is the inactivity, being cooped up inside the entire time he's been under lock and key. It doesn’t help that it’s been raining almost nonstop, making the smell of the forest stronger and he itches to go, to at least spend some time out in the woods instead of trapped by four white walls.

Garrett can compromise though, he can.

Leaving the compound will more than likely raise Jacob’s hackles, but Garrett can’t stand being locked up in a glorified cage 24/7. So he opens the window and climbs out onto the roof; outside without leaving the compound. It also gives him the opportunity to widen his observation range from up here and he’s able to keep track of time by the change in guard shifts.

The entire time he’s been here, Garrett’s been on the lookout for Staci, but hasn’t seen the man anywhere. Not in the mess hall, not milling about outside doing some kind of work, hell, he hasn’t even seen him in any of the cages, which begs the question of what did Jacob do with Staci Pratt? Garrett wants so badly to ask, to pick the lock or use the roof to leave Jacob’s room and go searching, but he’s pretty sure that neither of those would end well.

 _Be patient. Wait it out, you’ll get your answers at some point,_ Garrett tells himself.

After a few hours of more of the same, Garrett climbs back in through the window.

\---

They still don’t talk a lot and it’s definitely not for lack of trying on Garrett’s part.

He tries, he really does, but trying to get Jacob Seed to talk at all when he isn’t actively giving orders is like pulling teeth because the laconic man apparently prefers to just watch every move Garrett makes, like doing that might grant him a look into what makes Garrett behave the way he does.

Point is, is that Jacob doesn’t like talking, but seems to be okay with touching. While he’s going over reports and logistics at his desk, he lets Garrett trace the scars and burns on his forearms. In the mess hall, Jacob lets Garrett link their ankles or brush their legs together under the table. At night, before dropping off into sleep, he lets Garrett press his lips to the palm of Jacob’s hand like he did during that first odd moment between them.

Hell, the guy even reciprocates. Jacob will rest a hand on Garrett’s thigh while he works, his grip tightening every now and then. He’ll drag a hand up and down Garrett’s back while sleep finally claims him, nips at the hinge of Garrett’s jaw in the morning.

There’s a hint of what Garrett thinks might be fondness in Jacob’s eyes during those times.

And it’s not that he’s complaining necessarily, he does enjoy the casual affection, especially since he hasn’t had a lot of it since the night they tried to arrest Joseph Seed and everything went to hell, but it’s still somewhat jarring to go from _“trying to kill, or that very least horribly maim, each other”_ to _“surprise, you’re actually soulmates.”_

\---

It’s one of his own nightmares this time; they’re few and far between, but they still happen. He wakes with a choked off gasp, chest heaving as he tries to force the ghost of memories from his mind. He stills at the feel of rough fingers combing through his hair, a voice pitched soft and quiet like he does for Jacob when he thrashes in the night.

“—and then Young did another shot, looked at us and said ‘Watch this.’ Probably shouldn’t—”

After a moment, he realizes that it is Jacob and he’s… trying to calm Garrett the same way Garrett usually calms him? That’s… actually very touching, when Garrett thinks about it. Also kind of embarrassing because there’s a lot he’s said to Jacob when he thought the man was asleep and if it turns out that Jacob was awake enough to hear most of it… Fuck it, he’ll worry about it later. Garrett turns his focus on Jacob’s voice, letting it drown out the static ringing in his ears and ease his heartrate back to something normal.

“—ended up getting banned from that bar. It’s also how this one happened,” Jacob points out the scars they share on their knuckles.

It’s the most he’s heard the other man say at once since Garrett’s failed escape attempt and something in Garrett wants to hear him speak more. That and there’s something he wants to know. Reaching out and tentatively takes hold of the hand that Jacob’s doesn’t have buried in Garrett’s hair, brings it to rest on the scarred words on Garrett’s left thigh.

“How come you never talked to me after this?” Garrett asks, barely above a whisper, afraid to burst this bubble that contains only the two of them, cult and everything else forgotten for the moment.

Jacob’s jaw clenches and unclenches, trying to find a way to say what he wants to say or maybe hoping that Garrett will drop it, but he won’t, he can wait him out. The grip on his hair tightens, almost painfully so, enough that Garrett grunts, but he keeps hold of Jacob’s gaze, dark green and ice blue staring unflinchingly at one another.

As the silence stretches on, Garrett thinks back to the bite mark Jacob gave him out in the woods and you know what, fair is fair. Garrett leans up on one arm and bites down into the meat of Jacob’s shoulder, hard enough to draw blood, can feel the matching bite appear on his own shoulder. Jacob doesn’t make a sound but he digs his fingers into Garrett’s thigh, tugs at Garrett’s hair, breathes him in.

Garrett releases Jacob’s shoulder when the older man rolls them over so that he’s hovering over Garrett who spreads his legs for him. Garrett licks his lips, doesn’t miss how Jacob’s dilated eyes watch the movement, and rakes his nails down Jacob’s broad back. He can feel Jacob’s answering groan rumble against his ribs before he places several bites down Garrett’s chest, teeth scraping along his skin, over their shared scars. Making his way up Garrett’s body, Jacob claims Garrett’s mouth in a biting kiss, tasting the blood on Garrett’s lips. Garrett reaches out, wraps his fist in Jacob's dog tags pulling the man closer. 

In the back of his mind Garrett remembers that Jacob still hasn’t answered his question, but all thoughts flee when Jacob rolls his hips against Garrett’s.

\---

Garrett wakes when his clothes, which are now clean and now finally being returned to him, are tossed at his head.

Shoving the jeans out of his face he sees Jacob already dressed and waiting with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Get up, there’s a lot that needs to get done today.”

If he’s being honest, Garrett’s a little embarrassed at how eager he is at the thought of being outside of this room for a day. 

As he gets dressed, ignoring the protest of his sore muscles, he can feel Jacob’s eyes bore into him, silently but proudly taking in the new bites and scratches that are scattered across Garrett’s body that are also on Jacob’s. Facing away from his soulmate, Garrett rolls his eyes; he can practically feel the smugness radiating from Jacob.

When he’s finished lacing up his boots, Jacob steps into his space, looks at Garrett as if inspecting him. Jacob takes hold of Garrett’s chin and tilts his head enough to press his face into the crook of Garrett’s neck, sucking a mark just under Garrett’s ear. Garrett gasps, fists a hand in Jacob’s shirt until the man steps back and makes a noise of approval at his own handiwork.

Jacob turns on his heel, heads out the door, and Garrett follows without having to be told to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm still working on the time loop fic, but i've been hitting some writing roadblocks so this fic has been pretty nice to help work through it so i hope you guys have been enjoying this!
> 
> i dunno exactly how many chapters of this i'll do, but the last three i'm gonna try to do from jacob's perspective so hopefully that'll explain why he acts the way he does in this. also, should i try writing some actual nsfw for this or should i just keep it vague? 
> 
> feedback is always appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [got a playlist now](https://8tracks.com/edmunderson/howl) because im gay and have poor impulse control
> 
> kind of a short chapter but i'm also incredibly exhausted so i'm stopping here. i'll try to write a longer chapter next time

Jacob keeps him away from the cages. More than anything else it’s probably to keep Garrett from trying to free the captives, because honestly, given the chance he absolutely would try to free them. Jacob Seed may be his soulmate but that does not mean Garrett condones the torture he’s putting these people through.

And he will, Garrett will free them from the cages, but his main priority is getting Staci Pratt out first; if he doesn’t then Jacob will more than likely inflict more _“discipline”_ on Staci in retaliation.

So, instead, Jacob brings Garrett out to one of the supply trucks and has him do inventory. He knows he’s being watched by a few of the Peggies nearby, probably to make sure he doesn’t cause any trouble. Or maybe trying to figure out what the deal with him is, but they only need to take one look at the chemical burns that match Jacob’s to know.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Jacob says to him, leaning in so that only Garrett can hear. “This is just to keep you off the roof.”

… Well, he should’ve seen that coming. Jacob has good eyes, almost as good as Grace, so of course Garrett’s roof compromise would’ve been noticed sooner or later. He was hoping for later.

Doing inventory may be mind-numbingly dull but it’s better than slowly losing his mind because of cabin fever. It’s easy to lose himself in the numbers, get an efficient tunnel vision going, and before he knows it he’s finished going through the three trucks assigned to him and hands his sheets filled with numbers over to the supervising Peggie; she’s skeptical and insists on double checking his work, tells him to wait and not wander off.

With a shrug, Garrett climbs on top of the first truck, watches the road that leads up the hospital turned compound for lack of anything else to do. He’s pretty much got the morning block rotation down pat and most of the evening rotation as well. Garrett should probably start observing the night shifts soon, cover all his bases, though that might be harder to slip past Jacob’s notice.

He could play it off as his insomnia acting up, but even when it does he tends to stay in bed so that could be spotted as a lie.

The Peggie supervisor – Janet, he thinks; shrewd eyes and blonde hair – takes a long time double checking and then triple checking his work, looking for any kind of mistake or trick, and if the circumstances were different he definitely would fuck with the numbers.

“I told you the numbers are fine, Janet. Perfect even,” Garrett says idly, doesn’t catch the muttered response, too busy looking over at the cages. Catches sight of red hair and watches Jacob walk amongst the jungle of iron bars, a few Judges loyally trailing after him as he stops in front a few cages seemingly at random, winds up the music box with a smirk.

The sight of brainwashed captives turning on each other, frothing at the mouth to kill, turns Garrett’s stomach and he can’t bear to watch and looks away, fists clenching and unclenching to keep himself calm.

 _Pratt first,_ Garrett reminds himself. _Pratt first and then everyone else. Jacob can’t threaten to hurt your friend if he’s safe and free._

It’s a shitty consolation for a shitty situation, but it is what it is.

Shutting his eyes he tries to block out the sounds of violence coming from the cages, tries to focus on the other sounds of the compound, count his own heartbeats, _anything_ to deafen himself to the noise of unnecessary violence.

He doesn’t know how long he stays like that, sitting on top of the truck, eyes screwed shut, until something wraps around his ankle and he jerks back with a sharp inhale.

Opening his eyes, Garrett sees Jacob looking up at him, hand releasing Garrett’s ankle. How long has Garrett been sitting there? It’s worrying that he didn’t hear Jacob approaching yet again. Maybe he should look into getting the guy a bell or something.

“What are you doing up there?”

“Keeping in plain sight.” Garrett tries to take a deep breath, calm the panicky staccato rhythm behind his ribs. It helps a little, but the ice blue eyes staring at him are reminiscent of predator looking at prey, and it kinda makes Garrett feel worse.

Jacob’s head tilts slightly and stares at him a little while longer before motioning for Garrett to follow him.

\---

So Jacob doesn’t let Garrett near the cages filled with captured people who are more likely than not being brainwashed.

Instead, Jacob brings him to the Judges and honestly, when they’re not out in the wild, trying to tear him limb from bloody limb, they remind him a lot of Boomer but bigger.

The great big beasts yip and try to climb over each other to sniff at them and Garrett falls flat on his ass when one jumps up on him. There’s an odd rumbling sound and for a moment Garrett mistook it for incoming rain, but when he looks around for any heavy clouds he sees it’s actually just Jacob laughing.

Jacob Seed is laughing.

_Laughing._

Sure, he’s laughing _at_ Garrett, but this is the same guy who’s all _“Cull the herd,”_ so it should be wrong to see him with a grin and chuckling at his soulmate being crushed by 180 pounds of gray wolf that has probably eaten a person before, considering the mystery meat.

 _I must be having a stroke_ Garrett thinks dazedly. _Or an aneurysm. Maybe both; why be picky?_

The wolf currently crushing him licks his face and Garrett ruffles its fur, but then he’s getting swarmed by _Judges_ looking for attention which is a lot like being swarmed by a horde of dogs and Garrett loves it because it’s something familiar or close enough to it.

Gets distracted by the Judges playfully nipping at him and he coos at them, forgets for a while about how messed up everything is, doesn’t realize that Jacob has crouched down next to him, sitting back on his heel, until he feels Jacob’s gaze on him.

Garrett offers him a small smile.

“I didn’t have time to answer right away,” Jacob says and it confuses Garrett for a moment until he remembers the question from last night. “After though, I don’t know why I didn’t.”

Taking in the slightly tense way his soulmate holds himself, it occurs to Garrett that this might be an attempt at an apology for not answering his question last night. Maybe. He still doesn’t know how to read Jacob’s emotions all that well, especially considering the man keeps it all behind a wall and only ever allows a glimpse of it to show in his eyes.

So if Garrett follows that line of thinking, it may not be that Jacob doesn’t _want_ to talk with him, it might just be that he can’t or doesn’t know how to. And considering the kind of life he’s led that Garrett knows of, it makes some sense; more of a man of action than words.

“Thank you,” Garrett tells Jacob and finds that he honestly means it; thankful for the answer, vague as it was, and for the possibly an apology attempt. He suppresses a snort at the preening aura coming off of his soulmate once Garrett thanks him and goes back to lavishing affection on the Judges. 

They spend about an hour more with the Judges before Jacob has to haul Garrett out from underneath them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i couldn't wait to do a jacob chapter later on lmao
> 
> also the [little nightmares ost](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lnO_NzyUkWY&t=1985s) was just really fitting when i wrote this

Protecting his younger brothers from their old man’s belt and fury has been something Jacob has done for as long as he can remember.

But there were times where no matter what he did, Jacob couldn’t shield them from their old man’s drunken rage and raised fists, and those times hurt more than anything. Keeping Johnny and Joe safe was the only thing that mattered to him; any thoughts about a soulmate were put on the back burner indefinitely. Besides, it’s not like he ever thought he had one to begin with. Never any scars or scrapes or cuts of any kind that suddenly appeared for most of his life. 

Just… nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

It’s not the worst thing to happen to him, he’s not bitter about it, more like resigned when he rarely thinks about it. As much as he hates to admit it, Jacob has a temper like his old man, so it’s probably for the best. So long as he has something to direct his anger towards he’s fine, but Jacob and his brothers won’t be squashed under their father’s oppressive thumb forever and he’d hate himself if he took that anger out on someone he cares about. 

Or will care about. Would care about.

Point is, his only focus in life right now is keeping them all alive. Nothing else matters. Turns himself into a protector, a parent before he’s even 15, to replace the deadbeat drunk of a father and the emotionally dead, withering husk of a mother. 

Then their mother is gone – either dead or she just up and left, it doesn’t really matter – no one mourns except for Johnny. Joe consoles their youngest brother, but Jacob knows that neither of them feels the sting of her abandonment. 

Hell, he isn’t even sure their old man has even noticed her disappearance. Not even when Jacob taunts him about it during a beating does he show any kind of emotion about it.

“You’re so fuckin’ useless,” Jacob laughs at him, blood staining his teeth in a wild grin. “Can’t even keep a job or your soulmate, so you have to beat your kids to feel good about yourself.”

A hit lands on the hinge of his jaw, making it click, and it hits hard and something in him rattles loose because he just starts laughing and can’t stop. It just earns him a longer beating and Jacob’s uncontrollable laughter is probably scaring his brothers who are hiding in the next room, but Jacob just can’t stop.

Not long after, their old man gets arrested and Jacob and his brothers get picked up by CPS and put into the foster system.

Things don’t get better for them.

\---

Jacob gets sent to juvie for burning their foster parents alive, CPS coming in and whisking his younger brothers away, couldn’t be assed into doing their god damn _job_ sooner so Jacob had to take action himself and do something about it.

It’s crowded in juvie but he’s alone without Johnny and Joe around; doesn’t even really know what happened to them other than the fact that their baby brother got adopted and Joe got shunted so far into the system that not even Jacob’s caseworker could keep track of him.

He misses them, misses having them around – hell, he even misses fighting and arguing with Joe about everything under the sun – and it feels like there’s a gaping hole in his chest. Jacob is aimless – rebellious – like a broken compass without them and he fucking knows it.

He makes a few friends during his time in juvie – you kind of have to really unless you want to be singled out – and Jacob gets some of his direction back, enough to keep him sane. At one point he asks his caseworker if there was any hope of him possibly getting custody of Joe when he turns 18 and gets out of juvie, so that what’s left of their family isn’t completely scattered to the wind. She politely tells him “Not on your fucking life, Jacob Seed.”

Eventually he enlists in the army and never looks back.

\---

Being a soldier suits him; near constant activity, having direction in his life for the first time in quite a while.

He still thinks of Johnny and Joe every now and then. Even less about the possibility of a soulmate; Jacob doesn’t pay much mind to the cuts he finds every now and then when he wakes. They’re out in the field so often he chalks it up to sleeping on rocks or something.

When it happens, he doesn’t really know how to react.

They were at base playing poker during their downtime when Jacob suddenly felt multiple sharp pains digging in around his left eye. It freaked the shit out of Savoy, but Jacob was too busy clutching at his face as if that would do anything. Miller and Young managed to pry his hand away to take a look at the damage and Jacob could smell blood mixed in with beer, hear the sound of glass crunching.

And then it’s gone, that little peak into whatever was happening to his soulmate, causing them enough distress and pain that Jacob could hear and smell, however faintly, what they heard and smelled. It was surreal, like being in two places at once, until the double sense went away and he was back in the desert, on base with Miller and Young trying to get him up onto his feet to go see a medic.

The blood gets cleaned up, the mess of wounds around his left eye patched as best as it can be. Jacob’s told that he’s lucky; if any of the wounds had been a little lower and he could’ve lost vision in his left eye.

It’s good news, but it’s also troubling. This means he has a soulmate who also almost got their eye fucked up. After all this time, Jacob Seed has a soulmate somewhere and he… he doesn’t really know how to react to that fact.

Once he got back to his bunk, waving off Miller and Young’s concern – though Miller didn’t look convinced – he took a look at his reflection in the tiny mirror on the wall. The gashes looked angry and red and the phantom scent of blood and beer mixed together hadn’t left him, reminded him a lot of the years before he was separated from his brothers.

Looking back on it, Jacob couldn’t really say what possessed him to do it, but he took out the combat knife he kept stashed under his pillow and carved into his upper thigh.
    
    
    who?

Who is his soulmate, who hurt them like that, just who in general. An answer to any of that would do so long as he got one.

When he doesn’t get an immediate answer, something like desperation claws its way up his throat because he needs _something._ Jacob would even take a _‘piss off’_ over the lack of a response. He drags the blade across his thigh once more, underlining what he already wrote, emphasizing the importance of it.

The answer comes and he watches the skin on his thigh slice open as whoever on the other end finally answers.
    
    
    dad

A knot of tension within him eased, Jacob slumped sideways into the wall, looks down at the bleeding words and debates on whether he should say anything else or leave it as is.

The decision is taken from him when Miller comes back.

\---

Jacob doesn’t remember too much of the crash, just that they were shot down. From the helicopter he was on, only Jacob and Miller survived; Savoy’s neck snapped and twisted, Young got hit with a stray bullet right in between the eyes.

After dragging Miller from the wreckage, Jacob scanned the sky for the rest of their unit, but there’s nothing but clear skies and sand for miles. Hell, they’re lucky that their rations even came out of the crash completely unscathed, but it won’t last them long, not this far out. Best hope is to walk and maybe get spotted by someone out on patrol.

They walk for a few days, resting in shifts during the nights – Miller sighs in exasperation when Jacob lets the camel spiders crawl over him when he sleeps.

“They eat the bugs so the bugs don’t eat us,” Jacob tells him, eyes closed as one of said camel spiders runs around on his chest.

After five days of walking, the base still isn’t anywhere in sight. There are wolves following them, though they look more like coyotes. Can’t be more than four of them, but it’s not a comforting thought; they might be small, but wolves are wolves and there’s only him and Miller who are running out of food and water.

By the sixth day the water is completely gone. The thirst is unbearable, but their throats are too dry and scratchy to even complain. They keep walking.

Seventh day and Miller can barely hold himself up anymore, legs shaking too much to properly bear his weight. Jacob lifts him into a fireman’s carry and keeps going.

On the eighth day there are signs of more than just the wolves following them; enemy soldiers and they’re closing in faster than Jacob would like. They’re close to the base, but not close enough to outrun them, especially since he’s been carrying Miller.

They both make it to the tenth day. At midday they stop beneath a rocky overhang, the sun’s heat making it too unbearable for Jacob to keep slogging through the sand, carrying Miller on an empty stomach.

Jacob knows there’s no way they’ll make it back, that they’re both going to die out here in the desert. Closing his eyes and leaning back against the jagged rocks, Jacob thinks back on his life, thinks of Johnny and Joe – wonders where they are now, a part of him hoping that they’re both okay – and he thinks of his soulmate, whoever they are, faceless to him because he can’t even imagine what they look like other than what scars they share.

And then, much like the last time his old man beat him before getting hauled off to jail, something rattles loose within Jacob and he’s laughing. Uncontrollable, borderline hysterical _laughter._

Miller mumbles something unintelligible at him, but Jacob’s still laughing, mouth spread wide in a grin that he’s sure looks more like he’s baring his teeth than anything else. Like some kind of feral animal.

Jacob moves over to Miller who is looking at him with glassy eyes, and Jacob wraps his hands around Miller’s throat and squeezes.

His best friend starts to choke and gasp, weakly clawing at Jacob’s arms, but he’s weak, so _Weak_ from starvation and dehydration. An army marches on its stomach, and the Weak will feed the Strong.

Eventually Miller stops struggling and then his glassy eyes stare at nothing. Jacob takes out his knife and starts carving away strips of meat.

\---

Jacob made it back to the base, but ever since then he’s been seeing Miller’s ghost.

Well, more like hallucinating his ghost.

Doesn’t even realize it’s Miller at first because all he sees is a mummified corpse that shambles alongside him at times, empty eye sockets staring right at him, lips pulled back by dry air and showing off an ugly, skeletal grin. Jacob only puts two and two together when he sees the empty arm sleeve on the right side.

It isn’t real, so he ignores it, thinking it’s just a manifestation of guilt.

But then Miller starts _talking_ to him. Jacob doesn’t talk back to him, obviously, but it’s… stressful to say the least.

“Need a hand there, buddy?” Miller cackles at him one day when he’s moving cargo around, the empty arm sleeve flapping in the wind. 

The voice coming from Miller is a raspy, death rattle of a thing, doesn’t sound anything like he did when he was alive.

“Death changes a man, Seed. You should know this by now.”

So really, it’s no wonder that Jacob was eventually declared unfit for service and shipped back to the States.

\---

Jacob ends up back in his hometown when his money runs out.

“All roads lead to Rome, Seed,” Miller cackles at some point.

But it’s not all bad, despite Miller still haunting him. For one thing, his brothers find him and damn if he doesn’t almost cry to see them, to see that they made it actually becoming adults. And not only do they find him, but they bring him a new purpose, a new direction.

Jacob doesn’t believe a word of the bullshit coming from Joseph that John has apparently bought into, but there’s nothing in the world that will make him give up his family again.

\---

He learns that he’s not the only murderer in his family; Joseph admits to killing his own daughter, his baby girl, because the voice he believes to be God told him to do so.

“Too bad he doesn’t share your penchant for cannibalism, huh?” Miller remarks, teeth clacking noisily. “Would’ve really been something for you two to bond over.”

He learns that the family – the Duncans – that adopted John had been just as bad as their old man, if not worse because there was no one to protect him then.

He learns that Joseph has started a damn _cult_ of all things and he sees the blind devotion the followers have for his younger brother, and he sees the hint of fear his youngest brother has.

Jacob doesn’t believe, doesn’t think Joseph is actually speaking with God, but he joins them anyway.

\---

In the following years, Jacob finds himself thinking of his soulmate from time to time.

He no longer wonders if he should try to talk to them through scars or not anymore; whoever they are, they’re better off without him, without getting involved in Eden’s Gate.

But then he starts to think of them more often after the failed attempt to arrest Joseph, when the helicopter goes down and the Marshal and one of the Deputies escape the crash.

“There’s no need to worry,” Joseph says. “The Marshal will be caught; Deputy Rook, however, will prove to be a bit more elusive. More destructive. Should one of you find him, make sure he lives. He’ll be joining our Family after all.”

That doesn’t seem smart; if this Deputy is going to be such a problem, they’d be better off putting a bullet in him and calling it a day. He tells Joseph as much, but his brother just gives him a smile like there’s a joke only he is in on.

“Trust me, Jacob, we want him alive. You’ll thank me later.”

\---

“He is yours,” Joseph tells him after his brother has told Deputy Garrett Rook about killing his own child. “The other half of your soul. Keep him close.”

Jacob knows – has known for some time now – and there’s that same intense _something_ pushing at his ribs like it had the first time he’d gotten a good look at Garrett’s face, got a good look at the matching scars.

Biting down on Garrett’s neck was the final confirmation he needed, feeling the flesh on his own neck break open in tandem with Garrett’s.

(When Garrett kisses his palm the next day something flares to life within Jacob.)

\---

About a month has passed and Garrett has made no escape attempts, but Jacob has noticed his soulmate staring restlessly off into the forest. He’s only surprised it took this long for cabin fever to set in.

Setting Garrett loose in the woods with the recurve that had been confiscated probably isn’t the best idea, but it would be a good test to see if he can handle more freedom or if Jacob needs to tighten his leash.

“If anything, it’s his trust in you that’s misplaced,” Miller comments idly from where he sits next to Garrett on the couch. Jacob ignores him and goes back to reading the most recent reports on the Militia’s most recent activity and sightings.

What Miller says is true, because there’s absolutely no way Jacob would allow a wild card like Garrett to go out armed without any kind of surveillance; which is why he’ll assign one of his hunters to watch him from a distance.

\---

Before the sun even rises, Jacob slips out of bed, careful to not wake Garrett and heads down to the security room after he’s dressed.

Jacob pulls out Garrett’s recurve bow and quiver, counts how many arrows are in it, and heads back up to his room. The sun has started to rise as he walks down the hall, but there are still heavy looking clouds on the horizon.

Opening the door reveals Garrett awake and sitting at the window, and at the sound of the door creaking open he turns to look at him.

At the sight of the bow and quiver his soulmate nearly trips over himself in his haste to get up. Jacob watches Garrett reach out to take the bow, but then pause, hesitating. He pushes it into the waiting hand, fingers brushing, and Jacob sees the moment a smile lights up Garrett’s face.

“Holy shit,” Garrett breathes as he takes hold of the recurve.

An unplanned Weakness that can be turned into Strength.

Garrett presses a quick kiss to the corner of Jacob’s mouth and it feels like he got hit by a car, all the wind knocked out of him.

There’s the sound of Miller laughing at him, distant and raspy, but Jacob doesn’t care for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a couple of things that i didn't address from jacob's pov in this chapter, but i'm saving most of that for the next time i write a jacob chapter. hope you guys enjoyed the introduction of ghost miller
> 
> (also, i do plan on writing smut into the story at some point, so probably in a couple of chapters it'll happen)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so the smut happened sooner than i planned on, so surprise lmao
> 
> if you don't want to read anything nsfw, stop reading at "Good to know you can follow rules."
> 
> also this is the first time i've actually written smut though i feel like i did a pretty decent job of it (though i'll probably come back at some point and edit it a bit but we'll see), but feedback is always welcome

Garrett is buzzing with barely contained excitement.

Jacob had given him back his recurve bow, completely unprompted; Garrett had been planning to ask for it at some point, but hadn’t been sure if he should ask about his recurve before or after asking about Pratt. It mostly would’ve depended on Jacob’s mood and even then it would’ve been risky because Garrett’s still not great at reading Jacob’s emotions other than _“murderous”_ and _“loathing.”_

There’s also a bit of shame tinging his mood because he’s practically giddy at the idea of being _allowed_ to go hunting, which is a whole can of worms he doesn’t want to open right now. But it’s also a pretty good gauge of Jacob’s trust in him if he’s allowing Garrett to have a weapon.

Of course, knowing what little he does about Jacob this probably just as much a test as it is a show of trust, so Garrett’s going to have to be careful to not fuck it up.

“Be back by sun down,” Jacob tells him, obviously not a request, as he hands over a backpack filled with other supplies for hunting. One of Jacob’s Judges butts its head against Garrett’s thigh, ready to go. That had been another stipulation; Garrett had to bring a Judge with him. For whatever reason why, Garrett can’t fathom. Probably as guard dog. Not necessarily to protect him, but more likely to keep him from going out of bounds or something, though he’s not sure how well the Judge will be able to… _judge_ that, how far away from the hospital is too far.

He kind of wishes Jacob had decided on some other cliché sounding group name for his wolves. 

“Back by sun down and no farther than Cedar Lake,” Garrett confirms absently as he double checks his bowstring but stops when Jacob takes hold of his jaw, makes Garrett look him in the eye.

“I mean it,” he says lowly, as if Garrett isn’t taking this or him seriously, which is not the case at all. Suppressing the urge to roll his eyes at his soulmate, Garrett turns his face into Jacob’s palm, presses a kiss to it. 

He kinda really would rather kiss Jacob properly, but they’re out in the hospital’s yard and Garrett would rather not push his luck; for all he knows Jacob might not like having any kind of affection expressed so openly in public, doesn’t know if the man views it as a weakness or something, so he only does what he knows he can get away with.

“I know,” Garrett says quietly, voice pitched soft, keeping his attention solely focused on Jacob to show that he is taking this trust seriously. There’s a flare of heat in Jacob’s eyes, sending a shiver down Garrett’s spine and making his toes curl, but it’s not bad and huh… Garrett will have to keep that in mind when he gets back. Or maybe in a few days or something… he’ll figure it out.

But for now he should probably get going before he or Jacob change their minds.

\---

Out in the woods for the first time in what feels like forever, Garrett breathes deeply, taking in the scent of pine and old rain and new rain coming in soon.

He can also feel eyes on him, but they don’t belong to the Judge with him and it’s definitely not Jacob watching him. No, it must be one of Jacob’s hunters keeping an eye on him no doubt. Shoving away the little tug of disappointment, Garrett keeps moving; he can spin this to his advantage, lay in the groundwork for a pattern.

Heading deeper into the hills around Cedar Lake, Garrett makes his way to where he knows there’s an abandoned bunker right next to what is essentially a treehouse that one of Redler’s old war buddies lived in before… before whatever happened to the guy. Died, probably.

Anyway, point is, Garrett’s trying to set up a pattern so it won’t seem out of the ordinary, because when the time comes, he’s going to need what he stashed there. A spare radio so he can contact Jess or Eli or whoever he can when his plan to get Pratt out is ready to be put into motion. Honestly, he’s got a few spare radios stashed in a lot of places all over Hope County, just in case, and man oh man is he glad that he did.

It takes him about an hour to hike out there and it takes a lot of willpower to resist the urge to go for the radio immediately, but Garrett manages it.

 _Have patience,_ he reminds himself. At the very least, Garrett climbs up the ladder, pokes his head into the treehouse as if he’s checking to make sure there’s no surprises up there. He already knows there isn’t, but he’s still got at least one hunter following him, so he’s got to make it believable.

After a few more moments of pretending to look around from the top of the ladder Garrett slides back down, takes his recurve in hand and heads into the trees. 

For the most part, Garrett’s just hiking through the woods, taking his time and enjoying being outside. With the Judge trotting alongside him he can pretend it’s actually Boomer and forget for a while. Well, more like a few minutes before he’s back to thinking about how he can start observing the night shift without drawing suspicion to himself.

His best bet as far as he can see is waiting for Jacob to leave his compound to go inspect one of the outposts still under his control, but then that raises the possibility of him taking Garrett with him. Jacob might trust – or something close enough to it – Garrett enough to go hunting as far as Cedar Lake without running off (though there’s the Judge and the hunter), but he might not trust Garrett enough to leave him behind. 

Even for one night.

So basically he’s back to square one and square one is just flying blind for the most part. Which Garrett isn’t bad at doing, but it’s not easy, especially when Jacob keeps his cards close to his heart and wrapped in barbed wire. So far hasn’t been too bad and it could be worse. 

A lot worse. 

And Garrett’s not dumb, he knows it could get worse, because as quickly as he’s become attached to his soulmate Garrett understands that there’s… something wrong with Jacob, something that plagues him.

The nightmares are evidence enough of that.

The way Jacob sometimes scowls like someone said something he doesn’t find funny even though there usually isn’t anyone around but Garrett and…

Fuck, if Mary May were here she’d be yelling at him for being stupid and catching feelings for _Jacob Seed_ of all people, but Garrett’s in this for the long haul because he’s already thinking of ways to try and help his soulmate deal with whatever is eating him alive from the inside out.

Honestly, he’d already been thinking about that, but more in an abstract sense.

The Judge next to him whines, can sense the spiraling nerves rolling off of Garrett in waves and there’s no way he’s going to have some kind of breakdown in the middle of the woods with one of Jacob’s hunters watching him. 

With a couple of deep breaths, Garrett reels himself back in, pushes away all thoughts and focuses on the hunt.

He’s going to calm down, relax, and try to have some small amount of fun out here even if it kills him.

\---

The rain set in fast and heavy, thunder clashing loudly overhead, as Garrett heads back to the hospital with the deer he killed being carried between him and the hunter, the Judge walking ahead of them.

Garrett hadn’t been planning on actually interacting with the lady, but about halfway through tracking the deer he’d realized it was going to be a pain to carry it back by himself, so he stopped pretending that he didn’t know she was there. It takes longer than he anticipated getting back because of the rain, but the make it before the sun goes down completely.

Jacob’s waiting for them, watching them come in through the main gate from underneath the overhang of the hospital’s front doors. The hunter waves Garrett off after they set the dead deer up to be gutted, so he heads over to Jacob who snorts at how drenched with rain Garrett is.

“Good to know you can follow rules,” Jacob says, leading Garrett inside with a warm hand pressed into Garrett’s lower back.

The entire walk to the room, Garrett can feel Jacob’s heated gaze on him and warmth pools low in his belly as Jacob's calloused fingers dig into him a bit. The tension radiating off them is palpable and distracting that once they cross the threshold into Jacob’s room, the door closed behind them Garrett almost doesn’t realize he’s shoved against the door until he’s practically already against it.

He opens his mouth to speak, but then Garrett’s mouth is being covered by Jacob’s in a rough, bruising kiss, warm hands sliding over his waterlogged jeans and wrapping around his thighs. Garrett grabs onto Jacob’s shoulders as he’s lifted off the ground, pushed more firmly against the door, pinned there by the weight of his soulmate. 

An embarrassing moan escapes Garrett at the feel of Jacob’s cock pressing against his, straining through the denim layers between them, as he wraps his legs around Jacob’s waist, hooks his ankles behind his back. Tries pulling them closer together, as if trying to merge them into one, rolls his hips, causing Jacob to groan at the pleasant friction, but it isn’t enough.

It isn’t anywhere _near_ enough.

At the same time Garrett fumbles desperately to undo both of their jeans, Jacob leans away enough to tug off his jacket, to pull insistently at Garrett’s shirt until he lifts his arms and pull off his own shirt. Then it’s just Jacob’s warm skin pressed flush against Garrett’s cold, damp skin.

And god does it feel amazing, feels even better when he can finally get his fingers to cooperate enough to free both of their dicks from their pants, gasps when this time it’s Jacob who rolls their hips together as he scrapes his teeth along the sensitive flesh of Garrett’s neck.

His hands slide down Jacob’s chest, over his ribs and come to rest on Jacob’s shoulder blades as his soulmate ruts against him, sets a rhythm that has Garrett’s toes curling. A howl of pleasure and pain rips out of his throat when Jacob suddenly bites down on Garrett’s neck, just below the hinge of his jaw, and Garrett can feels the blood trickle down his skin as he rakes his nails down Jacob’s back hard enough to draw blood as well, hissing when he can feel the phantom nails of the soul bond do the same to his own back, smearing blood against the wood of the door.

The next kiss is less rough, more sloppy and wet, as Garrett wraps a hand around their cocks and starts stroking in time with Jacob’s thrusts and it feels so much better this way, the pre-cum lubing his hand enough to make the slide smoother.

Over the sounds of their harsh breathing and groans, Garrett can hear the door rattling in its frame from the force of Jacob’s thrusts, which are quickly losing the rhythm and are becoming more frantic, and then Garrett realizes that these doors were probably not made in mind with the possibility of two fully grown men fucking against them and hopes that the door will hold because he’d rather not end up with splinters in his back.

Someone or something out there must be listening to his wish, because the door holds as they both come with stuttering hips, clinging tightly to each other, Garrett pressing quick kisses to Jacob’s face until he can feel his heartbeat slow to a normal rate.

“We should probably move before the door breaks,” Garrett murmurs against Jacob’s cheek.

“Mm.”

A grin grows on his face at that answer or lack thereof.

“I should probably go shower.”

“Mm.”

“Do you want to join me?”

Garrett takes the nip of teeth and the fact that Jacob carries him to the bathroom as a yes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i've changed the rating, but idk if this counts as more an M rating but i figured better safe than sorry


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not as long of a chapter as i would've liked and it's kind of all over the place, like jacob's current emotional/mental state lmao

There’s a hushed yet still clearly angry conversation while Garrett is half way between awake and still asleep. He can only hear Jacob’s voice so he assumes that he’s speaking with someone over the phone. 

Well, until he hears Jacob’s tone of voice shift into something bordering on desperate when he says, “Just shut up, Miller.”

That gets Garrett waking up, because he doesn’t think he’s ever heard Jacob sound like that, not even during his worst nightmares.

“Jacob?” Garrett calls out quietly, eyes bleary and unfocused when he manages to pry them open, sees Jacob tense up from where he stands across the room, hands planted firmly on top of his desk and bearing his weight. “What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t see a phone or a radio so who was Jacob talking to?

“None of your business. Go back to sleep.”

The way he’s holding himself is like he’s bracing for something, but Garrett’s the only other person here and he’s not… Garrett doesn’t know what, but nothing he might do should make Jacob tense up like that.

Hell, Jacob won’t even _look_ at him, and from the past month or so of almost constantly having Jacob’s eyes on him being the norm, Garrett knows something is definitely wrong.

Sliding out from under the covers, Garrett deliberately makes every step he takes loud enough against the linoleum so that he doesn’t startle Jacob; it’s like approaching a wild animal and trying not to spook them. When he’s within arm’s reach and Jacob doesn’t make any kind of protest, Garrett reaches out hesitantly, places a hand on Jacob’s back, on top of the now scabbed over scratches. From this close up Garrett can see the slight heave in Jacob’s breathing, how shiny his eyes look.

The urge to press close, to crowd against Jacob in an attempt to soothe whatever is bothering him, is strong and Garrett struggles to shove it down; he doesn’t want to make him worse if Jacob doesn’t want or need too much physical contact, despite how the man usually drapes himself over Garrett whenever he possibly can.

Compromise; it seems to be the thing they keep coming back to.

“Come back to bed?” Garrett asks softly, leaves the decision to Jacob.

After a moment something within him relaxes and he nods, finally looking at Garrett.

Shocked that that went easier than he expected it to, Garrett takes hold of Jacob’s hand and walks backwards towards the bed without stumbling or breaking eye contact.

Doesn’t even complain when his soulmate uses him as a pillow, still too stunned that Jacob didn’t try digging his heels in and be stubborn.

\---

Turns out Garrett was right, it really was only a matter of time before Jacob decided to leave St. Francis’; unfortunately doing so he decides to bring Garrett along, but when Garrett thinks about it, he might find Pratt wherever it is they’re going.

It’s embarrassing how much Garrett is enjoying being in a car again, even if he isn’t the one behind the wheel, though he does mess with the radio, trying to see if he can get 97.9 to come in clear enough up here in the mountains and miracle of miracles, it does.

Leaning back into the passenger seat, Garrett rolls the window down, quietly hums in contentment at the feel of wind on his face and tucks his right leg underneath him. Watching the trees pass by in a blur, Garrett lets himself revel in this small comfort, lets himself smile when the opening notes to [_‘Tiny Dancer’_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yYcyacLRPNs) come in over the radio.

Just lets go for a few precious moments, allows himself to sing along quietly under his breath, eyes closed, and he can pretend that all of this is completely normal.

It doesn’t take him long to notice the now incredibly familiar sensation of being watched and a sly grin slides into place on his face as he cracks an eye open to look back.

“You should pay more attention to the road unless you want to crash.”

“Just keeping an eye on you. Wouldn’t want you getting any ideas about trying to make a run for it.”

Thinking about it for a brief moment, yeah, this would probably be the best time to make an escape attempt. Just pop the door open and tuck and roll, run for the tree line; Garrett could make it – probably – but it’d be counterproductive and as insane as it more than likely makes him sound, he doesn’t plan on leaving Jacob, not if there’s some way he can convince him to basically stop being in a cult. And he’s his soulmate, so that makes things complicated and…

Garrett shrugs, shifts a bit to face Jacob more.

“If I was going to run for it I would’ve done it already.”

There’s a look on Jacob’s face that clearly expresses doubt and Garrett rolls his eyes at him.

\---

Of all the places Garrett was expecting, it’s safe to say that he didn’t think the Grand View Hotel was where they were going and it makes him a little nervous; the only time he’s ever been here with Jacob was the first time he got captured and put through the initial brainwashing.

Garrett wonders if he’s still conditioned to _‘Only You,’_ if the song is yet another thing Jacob has on him.

There’s no faint screaming that reverberate off the walls this time, just utter silence and that puts Garrett more on edge than the screaming would have. The screaming, as terrible as it is would’ve at least given some idea of what’s going on, but silence… 

Silence can mean anything.

So Garrett keeps close to Jacob despite the man being the most dangerous thing here, walks a half step behind and ignores the odd, curious stares of the Peggies that watch them.

Jacob doesn’t say a word as they walk through the halls of the hotel and Garrett ignores the questionable stains soaked into the floorboards that creak with every step taken.

They come to a stop in front of room 306, a coil of dread settling in Garrett’s stomach as Jacob opens the door and steps inside, and he follows. There’s a beat up and bloody Whitetail Militia member tied to a chair and a couple of Peggies within the room, the stench of the place making Garrett want to retch.

“Has he talked yet?” Jacob asks the Peggies as he stands in front of the man Garrett vaguely remembers from the Wolf’s Den.

“No, sir. We’ve only gotten either false information or he tells us what we already know.”

Jacob hums as he takes in the situation, waves the two Peggies away. “Leave. I’ll put the screws to him.”

And the Peggies leave and it’s just him, Jacob, and the passed out Militia man. 

“Sit over there,” Jacob tells him, pointing to the part of the room that’s out of the Militia man’s sight, and it’s not a suggestion. Garrett takes his sweet time because he’s _really_ not happy about this and ignores how Jacob’s eyes bore into him as he moves.

Once Garrett is where he wants him, Jacob reaches out, pinches the man’s nose shut and covers his mouth, waits until he starts thrashing before removing his hands. “Rise and shine.”

“Fuck you,” the man gasps out, trying to catch his breath. Garrett thinks his name is Mike. In his defense, he didn’t exactly get the chance to really get to know anyone other than Eli or Wheaty from the Wolf’s Den before setting out and getting captured again.

Jacob tsk’s as if chastising a child and digs his thumb into the open wound above Mike’s collarbone, talks over the shout of pain that escapes the bound man. “This tough guy routine just isn’t going to work. We're going to have to fix that.”

Mike spits in Jacob's face and Jacob doesn't even flinch, just slowly and deliberately wipes the bloody spit from his cheek.

Garrett watches with horror as Jacob removes his thumb from the wound and pulls out the damn music box from his back pocket, sees how Mike recoils at the sight of it too.

“If you’re so desperate to prove how strong you are, fine; we’ll see how strong you are. See how long you can last in that chair.”

He starts winding it up and Garrett’s crossing the room to him, clamping his hand down on Jacob’s, heart caught in his throat as he does so, equal parts fear and hurt.

“Jacob, don’t,” Garrett practically pleads, ignores the shocked _“Deputy Rook?”_ coming from Mike. 

His soulmate scowls, ice blue eyes boring into Garrett’s own green ones, his jaw clicks but Jacob doesn’t turn the music box key any further. 

But he doesn’t put it away either.

 _“Please,”_ and now he’s begging, as much as he hates to admit it, even to himself.

At the very least, Jacob looks like he’s reconsidering using the music box when his mood seemingly turns on a dime and his jaw clicks again, emotional wall coming up so fast it gives Garrett whiplash, shakes Garrett off and starts winding the music box again.

“God damn it, Jacob,” Garrett hisses, attempts to grab the music box; he’s going to destroy that fucking thing, but then Jacob grabs Garrett’s wrist, tight enough that he knows it’s going to leave bruises. He struggles against the grip on his wrist as Jacob slams the music box down on the table with controlled force and turns to face him fully.

They stand there glaring at one another for a moment before Jacob stoops to pick Garrett up and strides towards the door.

“What the _fuck?”_ Garrett complains as he kicks out. It isn’t fair how easily Jacob can manhandle him, it really isn’t. He sprawls out flat on his back when Jacob tosses him unceremoniously out of the room.

“Don’t interfere, _sweetheart,”_ Jacob says with a smile too sharp to be considered friendly in any way, shuts the door behind him and the two Peggies from earlier move to stand in front of the door.

“Well fuck you too, _sugar bear,”_ Garrett hollers loud enough to be heard.

\---

Hours later finds Garrett out on the balcony that faces the water, stewing in anger and frustration.

Staring out over Cedar Lake, Garrett’s tempted to just walk out into the wilderness and not look back; half of him is urging him to do so, the other half tells him to stay put.

Leaving is so tempting, but he isn’t sure what exactly it would accomplish. Hell, there’s enough Peggies around that he isn’t sure he’d be able to get very far without them sounding the alarm. Any trust he’s built with Jacob, however small it is, would be fucking ruined.

Heaving a heavy sigh Garrett leans against the balcony rail. He’s so fucking tired, wishes for a moment Eden’s Gate chose somewhere else for their reign of terror.

He can feel Jacob’s eyes on him before he hears the man approach, and Garrett’s brow furrows for a moment because Jacob always moves as silent as a ghost so why is he making noise now?

Garrett doesn’t turn to look at him, keeps his gaze focused on the lake though he sees Jacob’s hands rest on the railing by his own out of his peripherals, and feels the wall of warmth that is Jacob Seed press flush to his back, caging Garrett in.

“I’m still pissed at you,” Garrett says quietly when Jacob presses his mouth against Garrett’s neck, right over his pulse. “What the fuck was that even about?”

“Wolf’s Den,” is all Jacob offers, lips brushing against Garrett’s skin, and _Christ_ would it kill him to be a little more forthcoming?

“Where’s Pratt?” Garrett asks without even thinking about it and as soon as the words are out and starts cursing himself out internally as he watches Jacob’s knuckles turn white from how tightly he’s gripping the railing.

“Now why would you want to know about that traitor?”

“Because he’s my friend and I’m worried about him, Jacob,” Garrett says around a tired huff of laughter. “Surely you understand the concept of friends.”

When Jacob doesn’t reply Garrett turns to face him. There’s something conflicted in Jacob’s eyes, but it passes too quickly for him to really figure out. Leaning closer, Garrett rests his forehead against Jacob’s cheek, rests his hands on Jacob’s ribs.

“Where is he, Jacob?”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kind of a short one and i'm sorry for the delay but y'all get a better look into jacob's head so hopefully that makes up for it?
> 
> (lmao u know they're pissed at each other when they bust out the pet names)

_“Where is he, Jacob?”_

The million dollar question that has led to them being back in his Jeep, though this time Jacob keeps a tight grip on Garrett’s hand; he’d said earlier that he wasn’t planning on escaping, but Jacob doesn’t buy it for one second.

“He sure has you wrapped around his little finger, huh?” Miller says with a lipless grin when Jacob glances at the rearview mirror, sees that damn _“ghost”_ lounging in the backseat.

His grip tightens, can feel the bones and muscle in Garrett’s hand shift, but then Garrett holds his hand just as tightly so Jacob doesn’t feel bad about it.

\---

It’s half past midnight and there’s no sleep in sight for Jacob, but that’s alright with him for once. He’s got a warm and sleeping soulmate draped across him, exhausted from fucking against the door and again in the shower, and Jacob feels calm for the first time in what seems like forever.

It’s not quite peaceful, but it’s comfortable enough.

“Aw, don’t you two make a cute picture.”

Well, it had been comfortable, until Miller decided to show up, the moonlight making him look worse than usual; Jacob can see the light pouring through the gaps in his teeth and through tiny rips in the mummified skin.  
Jacob’s not dealing with Miller while he’s got Garrett curled up on him, so he carefully slides out from under him. He’d rather not have the younger man thinking he’s crazier than he probably already does.

“Oh you didn’t have to get up on my account,” Miller tells him, but it’s with that tone of voice that Jacob still recognizes even after all these years.

“What do you want?”

“I thought it was pretty obvious.” Miller flaps his empty sleeve at Jacob, distorted grin on his rotted face. “You’re gonna have to tell him at some point, buddy.”

Scowling, Jacob goes to his desk, leafs through some files for want of something to do with his hands as he tries to ignore Miller’s eyeless stare. “What makes you think I’m going to tell him?”

That gets Miller laughing, loud and too sharp, making Jacob look over his shoulder at Garrett who’s still sleeping away before kicking himself; Miller isn’t real, Garrett can’t hear him.

“You’re gonna tell him,” Miller says, smacking the back of his remaining hand against Jacob’s shoulder. “I know you, Jacob Seed, so I know you’re gonna tell him. You can’t not spill the beans about this.”

Jaw clenching, Jacob looks away.

“Oooh, struck a nerve did I?” Miller hops up onto the desk, bones rattling as he does so. “What’s got you so desperate, huh? Tell me all about it.”

“Piss off, Miller.”

Miller doesn’t piss off. Instead, he just pisses Jacob off, gives Garrett an appraising look.

“Sure, he’s a looker and you’re soulmates, but most people don’t go crazy over just rubbing their dicks together a few times. You on the other hand…” Miller chuckles, wagging a finger in Jacob’s face. “Man, oh man, you’re just desperate for something to sink your teeth into; my arm, a new purpose, your soulmate.”

“Shut up.”

A set of sun-bleached teeth clack pointedly at him.

“Poor thing, doesn’t realize just how much of a monster you really are. I wonder if he’d leave if he knew just how unstable you really are. I mean hell, _I’m_ here and have been for years so that’s pretty telling of your mental state, Seed.”

“Just shut up, Miller.” Jacob’s bordering on fucking begging a figment of his imagination and that’s just so god damn pathetic.

“Jacob?” comes softly from the bed.

He tenses up at Garrett’s sleep slurred voice; Garrett can’t hear Miller but he sure as shit can hear Jacob talk to himself.

\---

The walk through the bunker has Jacob on edge, though he masks it well; normally he wouldn’t blink twice at being here, but wondering what Garrett’s reaction to Pratt will be has got Jacob twisted in knots.

Miller’s presence hovers nearby, somewhere just out of sight; he’s waiting to see it all come crashing down like a precariously built tower of blocks.

For the first time in years Jacob feels fear.

\---

“Jacob, don’t.”

Garrett’s pleading with him, his hand clinging to Jacob’s, keeping him from winding the music box up. They both ignore the battered man strapped to the chair. His jaw clenches, clicking, as he holds Garrett’s gaze, looks at those green eyes that are usually wary, cautious, but now look panicked and afraid.

Before discovering that they were soulmates, Jacob would’ve been viciously pleased to see that kind of fear in the younger man’s eyes, but now…

Now. He doesn’t.

It actually makes him a little sick to see it.

And he’s hesitating.

Garrett’s making him soft, _weak._ Only for him, but still.

 _“Please.”_ Not the kind of begging he likes to hear from him. This is all wrong.

A part of him wants to be soft for Garrett. Allow himself to be weak for him.

Then Miller shows up.

He’d been gone so long Jacob thought he’d finally left for good, thought he’d finally gotten tired of haunting him.

Miller drapes his arm across Garrett’s shoulders and Jacob knows he’s not there, that he’s not real, but something awful settles in his gut at the sight of that rotten arm touching Garrett.

“Sweetheart, you’re appealing to emotions he simply does not have,” Miller tells Garrett, but Garrett can’t hear him because _he’s not real._ Only Jacob can hear that mocking voice, see those empty eye sockets watching him. “He doesn’t even have a heart. Just some shriveled up wisp of a thing. You’ll find out soon enough, sweetheart.”

_sweetheart_

Miller’s words are ricocheting around Jacob’s head at dangerous speeds. The sight of boney fingers with skin pulled taut digging into Garrett’s arm makes something within him boil over.

_Sweetheart_

It’s irrational, he fucking knows it is, but now he’s angry, well and truly pissed off. So he shakes off Garrett’s hand and continues winding up the music box again.

“God damn it, Jacob.”

And then Garrett’s lunging for the music box, but Jacob grabs his wrist, holds it tight and they glare at each other. When Miller starts cackling Jacob decides he’s had enough and scoops Garrett up, carries him over his shoulder like he did out in the woods all that time ago.

“What the _fuck?”_ Garrett tries thrashing his way out of Jacob’s grasp until he’s being tossed out into the hall. 

“Don’t interfere, _sweetheart,”_ Jacob parrots the endearment that Miller used, can feel that the smile on his face is more him baring his teeth than an actual smile. He doesn’t slam the door shut, but he closes it forcefully enough to get his point across.

“Well fuck you too, _sugar bear!”_

The rising anger in Garrett’s voice gets Miller laughing uncontrollably, his jaw swinging back and forth alarmingly on its hinge, but it fills Jacob with a mix of self-loathing and his own rising anger.

“You ruin everything, Miller,” Jacob mutters, still ignoring the man still strapped to the chair.

“That was clearly all you, Seed,” Miller points out. “I’m not even real.”

As much as he hates to admit it, he knows Miller is right. That was all Jacob. Letting out a self-depreciating huff, Jacob gets back to the task at hand.

That was all Jacob, letting his temper get the better of him, unable to let himself have anything good in his life other than his family. This is why it would’ve been better for everyone involved if Jacob Seed never had a soulmate. Lord knows he doesn’t fucking deserve one.

All he’s good for is breaking things and people, doesn’t know how to be soft or weak for anyone; spent most of his life being nothing more than something with too many sharp and jagged edges and not needing anyone but himself to rely on.

The worst part? He still wants to try, even if it will blow up in his face, even if it won’t last.

Fuck, he’s tired, he doesn’t know what he’s thinking.

Jacob picks up the music box and winds it up.

\---

The lowest levels of the bunker are where those who need to be reeducated are kept. Traitors are kept at the very bottom. As soon as the final door is open Garrett rushes into the room, water splashing as he immediately goes to Pratt’s side, clearly ignoring the recorded torture playing on repeat, of Pratt begging for mercy but finding none.

Jacob watches from the threshold as Garrett undoes the bindings, watches as Pratt keeps throwing terrified and wary glances his way during their hushed conversation.

Waits with baited breath for Garrett’s reaction.

Waits as Garrett rises from his crouch at Pratt’s side, waits as he turns and Jacob looks slightly to the right, can’t look at him directly.

Garrett comes to a stop in front of him, one hand coming up to cup the side of Jacob’s face, makes Jacob look at him.

“Pratt’s coming back to St. Francis’ with us,” Garrett tells him and wasn’t what Jacob was expecting at all. “I think he’s suffered enough down here.”

They stand there, looking at each other, searching the other’s face and Jacob… Jacob has no clue what to say to that. He never has any fucking idea what to say to Garrett unless it’s something antagonistic, so Jacob just nods in agreement. Which was apparently the right thing to do because Garrett smiles at him, his fingers stroking Jacob’s cheek and Jacob leans into the touch.

And then he’s stepping away, back to Pratt to help him up and Jacob leads them back up to the surface, to the light of day. Pratt passes out the second Garrett gets him into the backseat of the jeep.

Once they’re driving back to the veterans’ hospital, Garrett takes hold of Jacob’s hand, presses a kiss to the back of it and it takes all of Jacob’s focus to keep his eyes on the road.

“Thank you,” Garrett says quietly, barely above a whisper as he clasps Jacob’s hand between both of his. He’s probably trying to make sure he doesn’t wake up Pratt. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m still pissed at you, but thanks for not fighting me on this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote the first half of this roughly two weeks ago and i honestly don't remember what i was originally planning for the second half (other than revealing where Pratt has been) so idk if the tone has shifted too much like halfway through or not


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry, i've let this sit for a month without an update (i also kinda forgot what i originally intended for this chapter and im trying to get back into the swing of this)
> 
> also, i'm surprised pratt didn't have any immersion syndromes considering he was essentially kept in a cell where his feet and socks were consistently soaked through and cold because of the water that was just??? left in there??? for seemingly a long time like how did he not get trench foot while down in the bunker?? why was the cell flooded like that when it had electronics within it???? why was the cell flooded at all that seems like a bad idea, jacob??? ubisoft i have questions about all of this like how tf pratt didn't contract gangrene?? trench foot can happen within 13 hours minimum and pratt was there for more or less a week??
> 
> on another note, in john's bunker when you go rescue hudson, there are just corpses hanging left hanging around in the area where you find her and that confuses me a lot too because??? the bunker is a closed environment (especially since they're planning on being there for 7+ years) and they just? have corpses lying around?? which is a health and sanitation concern (not to mention it's just fuckin weird and incredibly concerning like... why do y'all just have these hanging out here?? john did you leave these here or was it someone else in the bunker who did this??? and also why? what is the point?) like they know that the bunker can essentially go into lock down at any time so it just seems weird that'd they'd leave dead bodies in there at all.
> 
> just... it really boggles my mind because these are the people who are like "we're gonna live in bunkers for 7 years!" but then are also like "we're also going to have one of them kinda flooded at the bottom and another is going to have rotting corpses hanging from the rafters, nbd" 
> 
> can't really say much about faith's bunker other than it seems really easy to destroy their irrigation system (or whatever it is but i don't know enough about it to dispute it) because when the deputy goes there, they're high on bliss so a lot of it is distorted
> 
> i've just got a lot of Thoughts™ so feel free to ignore my rambling lmao

There’s something wrong with Pratt and that’s the fucking understatement of the year.

Of course, spending more or less a month trapped down in that water filled room with your most recent torturing played on repeat, not to mention the weeks of abuse beforehand, would fuck anyone up.

So now Pratt is jumpy, startles at the slightest noise, shrinks away from everyone who wanders too close, especially if Jacob is anywhere nearby. Hell, he even shrinks away from _Garrett_ and that twists the stabbing sensation of guilt even further. He should’ve asked – _demanded_ – to see Pratt sooner.

And that’s not even mentioning that Jacob didn’t even look guilty and something that sort of resembles shame until Garrett finally got a good look at the aftermath, and that’s a whole other problem Garrett’s going to have to deal with at some point too. It’ll have to wait though, until he can get Pratt out of St. Francis’ safely because for one thing, both Pratt and Garrett are vulnerable right now because there’s always the possibility that they could be used against one another. And two, Garrett has no idea how to explain to his soulmate that he can’t just go around _torturing_ people (or having other people do the torturing for him) because it’s just a bad thing in general.

It’s a necessary conversation and Jacob either won’t give a shit or just won’t understand the point for whatever reason, but Garrett will find a way to make him understand or die trying.

Hell, trying to have _that_ conversation with Jacob probably _will_ kill him.

But he’s got time to figure it out while trying to help Pratt cope with what happened to him and finding a way to get Pratt safely out of the Whitetails.

Right now though, the more pressing issue is getting a good look at Pratt’s wounds, making sure none of them are infected. At the moment, as Jacob leads the way to an unused bedroom, all Garrett can really see of them are the bruises on his face as well as a split lip.

They walk through the halls of St. Francis, their footsteps echoing off the linoleum floor, and before Garrett knows it Jacob is pushing open a door and standing off to the side, eerily silent with how his gaze keeps glancing off of him. Almost as if he’s afraid to look at Garrett directly, which is kind of absurd.

Garrett ushers Pratt into the room, leaving the door open if his friend feels the need to escape outside, but he just sits down on the cot, his movements looking more and more strained and uncomfortable.

“Pratt, this is important; I need to know if you’re hurt anywhere,” Garrett keeps his voice pitched soft and low, reminiscent of when he talks Jacob through his nightmares.

Staci seems to hesitate, eyes glancing over to the open doorway then down at the floor. Garrett crouches down in front of him, and Pratt seems to finally relent.

“I—I can’t feel my feet,” he admits quietly, as if afraid he’ll be punished if he speaks too loudly.

Very carefully and slowly, Garrett moves his hands towards Pratt’s bootlaces, giving his friend plenty of time to pull away or tell him to stop. The laces give way easily, but he has to be even more cautious taking the boots off, because Pratt winces when he tries to remove them too quickly. There’s an odd stench when the boots are finally gone and the only thing left are the still damp socks.

Garrett vaguely remembers Dutch talking about how during his time in Vietnam, they had to change socks regularly or else something… there was something about how wet socks and temperature messed up peoples’ feet and Garrett wishes he’d been paying more attention, because peeling off the socks reveals an odd, faint blue tinge to Pratt’s skin, with a few blisters and open sores scattered here and there.

Okay, this is well out of the realm of Garrett’s limited expertise and he has to take a moment to calm himself to keep from marching out into the hall and shaking Jacob and asking him what the _hell_ he was thinking.

They can fight later, _after_ Pratt has a doctor take a look at him.

“That’s really bad, isn’t it?”

Garrett can only nod his head in answer – because it is and he won’t lie to Pratt about it – before he stands up from his crouch and heads out into the hall, where Jacob leans against the wall by the open door, his face blank when Garrett comes out.

“He needs a doctor,” Garrett tells him with a calm he doesn’t quite feel. He sees the way Jacob tenses slightly at his odd calmness, but strangely continues to not fight him on this and heads off back down the hall.

A part of him wonders if Jacob is being so… _helpful_ – for lack of a better word – because he doesn’t want Garrett to be angry and upset with him and oh man, Garrett is absolutely _furious_ with him. He’s got a few choice words for Jacob because this kind of behavior isn’t _healthy_ – for him or for Garrett or for anyone else Jacob has put through this.

Leaning back against the wall, Garrett sinks down to the floor and tries to figure out what to do because he is so far out of his depth here it isn’t even funny.

Because while Garrett has at least a basic grasp on what is and isn’t healthy behavior, he’s no mental health professional and he knows it, is painfully aware of it every time Pratt looks scared out of his mind or whenever Jacob lashes out in his sleep, looking for imagined enemies.

He spends a few more moments sitting there, trying to not stress himself out, before getting back up and returning to Pratt’s room to wait with him.

\---

“He’s got trench foot,” the doctor – an older woman with thick coke-bottle glasses – informs them. “It’s still early enough that self-treatment should be enough. I’ll write a list of instructions to follow. If it gets worse and develops into gangrene we’ll have to look into amputation, though I doubt it will get to that point.”

“Is that all?” Garrett asks, because he finds it hard to believe that after all that time down in that bunker that it isn’t worse.

“That’s it. Everything else is just bruises.” Her head tilts in thought. “He could do with some more sleep, however.”

“Thank you,” Garrett tells her, but she waves it off as she writes out instructions.

“Don’t mention it.” She hands over the list, packs up her equipment, and leaves, leaving Garrett and Pratt in what will be Pratt’s room for now; Jacob never came back after he left to get the doctor.

Garrett closes his eyes and takes a deep breath; this has thrown a wrench in his plans to get Pratt out of here as soon as possible and Garrett kinda wants to yell in frustration, but that’s not productive, that won’t help, that won’t even make him feel better.

When he opens his eyes, Pratt seems to have fallen asleep, so Garrett shows himself out, quietly closing the door behind him.

A wave of exhaustion hits him as he stands out in the hall; it’s been a stressful day and it looks like the foreseeable future is going to be stressful too. He wonders when everything went to shit so quickly.

There are so many answers to that, but it’s late and he’s not really in the mood to analyze and self-reflect.

With a heavy sigh, Garrett heads down the hall, towards his and Jacob’s room.

\---

He finds Jacob in their room, sitting at his desk and going over reports or something, and Garrett is so _pissed_ right now, and tired, and he hates how he doesn’t hate the swell of _fondness_ he feels when he so much as _looks_ at Jacob, who he’s pissed at.

Life was a lot simpler before that night in the woods.

Garrett only realizes that he’s been standing there for a while when he notices the click in Jacob’s jaw and the slightly pinched look on his face and without even thinking about it, Garrett’s crossing the room towards him, pushing his way into Jacob’s space, straddling his lap and burying his face against the older man’s shoulder. He doesn’t miss how Jacob tenses up in surprise before relaxing, hesitantly wrapping his arms around Garrett.

“This is probably sending mixed signals, but I’m still angry with you,” Garrett says softly. Right now he’s a mix of conflicting wants; he wants to argue, he wants curl up with this man and not have to deal with anything for a while.

He wants a lot of things right now, but very few of them are doable at the moment.

Garrett can feel Jacob’s lips resting against his neck, over the scars, and Garrett reaches up with one hand to comb his fingers through thick red hair.

“We’re going to talk about this. About what you did to Pratt,” he tells him and his tone brooks no argument. There’s a lot of fucked up things happening, but he’ll be damned if he can’t get his soulmate to sit and _listen_ to him at the very least. “Not right now, but in the morning.”

And Jacob continues this weird new attitude of not fighting Garrett, but he at least grunts in understanding, almost absentmindedly running his knuckles up and down Garrett’s back.

Garrett eventually falls asleep on him, but it isn’t a peaceful rest, not really.

\---

He dreams of fire and teeth, but doesn’t remember anything else about it. Garrett’s surprised that when he wakes, in bed, it isn’t because of Jacob’s nightmares; they’ve both slept the whole night through – or at least pretended to – because Jacob is a wall of heat against Garrett’s back when usually he’d be in the shower already.

(Garrett hopes this means he has some sort of chance to get Jacob to see that what he did is wrong.)

Turning over so that they’re face to face, the first thing Garrett sees are ice blue eyes that look like they’ve been awake for a while.

“You wanted to talk, talk,” Jacob says and Garrett’s momentarily taken aback because it’s the most his soulmate has said since the bunker.

So, Garrett starts talking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will hopefully be longer and hopefully i'll remember how i've been writing jacob in this fic lmao
> 
> y'all can find me [here](http://edmunderson.tumblr.com/) if you wanna talk about fc5


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait on this chapter, it was being a real pain to write.
> 
> just a little sidenote (also a reminder to myself tbh), i've changed the ages of joseph and jacob a little bit, because the backstory for the Seeds make no sense otherwise. basically joseph and jacob are 4 years younger than their canon ages. because otherwise that means jacob was somehow put into the foster system at age 21??? so yeah, i've made them a bit younger.
> 
> there's also some uh... weird Ghost Miller shenanigans, so lemme know if i should tag this as body horror or not

He’s gotten too used to just winging it as he goes and now his lack of planning has come to bite him the ass. When it comes to just general plans or goals, Garrett’s golden, but trying to get a very specific outcome – preferably one where Jacob decides that hey, this cult business isn’t all that great and renounces Eden’s Gate – is not his fucking forte.

Running his hand through his hair again, tugging at it a bit, Garrett continues to stare out the window from where he’s sitting on the too small cot, knees drawn up close and the thin sheet pooling around his hips; he doesn’t quite remember what he said – nerves and anger and needing Jacob to understand _why_ what he’s done and still doing is fucked up – but he remembers the closed off expression on Jacob’s face, remembers how quietly the door was shut after Jacob got dressed and left.

Garrett had expected shouting and slammed doors, not quietness.

Not silence.

Silence… Garrett doesn’t fucking know what to _do_ with silence. Not from Jacob. No, he’s too used to the both of them at each other’s throats over radio, because Jacob is talkative when he’s angry, when he’s feeling mean.

Garrett doesn’t know what silence means, doesn’t know what the pinched expression meant before it was glossed over with the stony type of face Jacob makes; it’s practically his default.

He has no fucking _clue_ what to do next, because planning isn’t his prized skill, and he’s still so _bad_ at reading his soulmate’s moods because they don’t _talk,_ and Garrett…

Garrett’s so tired. 

Drained.

Not for the first time since he’s been here, Garrett wants to go back to Falls End, wants to curl up on Mary May’s couch and just forget about everything happening to Hope County for a while, at least until he feels he has a better grasp on what to do, or maybe when he no longer feels so stretched thin.

But he can’t, and he won’t leave Jacob behind even though he knows it’d probably be for the best; he can practically hear Grace telling him to just grab Pratt and run, but Garrett’s stubborn.

So, since he can’t and won’t leave, Garrett sits there, on the too small cot, and watches the sky outside brighten as the sun rises. Just for a little while. Just until he finds the energy to finally get dressed and tend to Pratt.

\---

Pratt spends most of the day sleeping, which isn’t surprising. He still startles every time Garrett wakes him up to eat and Garrett doesn’t miss how Pratt stares a little too long at the right side of Garrett’s face, probably finally putting two and two together.

“Do they hurt?” Pratt asks, gesturing to the chemical burns that match Jacob’s. 

Garrett brushes the ones on his cheek, pocked and rough, with his thumb; he doesn’t really know when he got them, just remembers them being there for… for a long time. He doesn’t really remember a time when he _didn’t_ have some physical reminder of his soulmate – of Jacob – scattered across his skin.

“No,” Garrett finally answers, looking away from Pratt and staring at the off-white wall. “They don’t hurt, not like his. These… they’re not the same. But you already knew that.”

Sure, they probably hurt when they first appeared, but the burn scars on Garrett aren’t like the burn scars on Jacob; Garrett’s are just a copy, they don’t hurt the same way.

Jacob has to be careful whenever he shaves or washes, his burns easy to irritate, whereas Garrett’s are just as rough, but they’re not same. A copy of the original, a mirror being reflected, different even though the scars are _identical._

Just like how Jacob still gets flare ups of pain from the burns that Garrett doesn’t get, Garrett still gets twinges of pain from where he’d had broken glass ground into his face that Jacob doesn’t feel.

Soulmates share scars, but that doesn’t mean they share phantom pains.

Garrett returns his attention back to Pratt when his friend starts to list sideways, half-finished bowl of stew held precariously in his loosening grip; he gets up from the chair he’d brought in and takes the bowl from Pratt and helps him lie back down.

Pratt’s asleep again before his head even hits the pillow.

With Pratt asleep, Garrett needs to figure out what to do with his time so that he’s not constantly thinking about what Jacob’s silence meant; he could probably go look for the man himself and ask – he actually probably should, because they really need to work on communicating with each other – but decides not to for now. They could both probably use the time to get their heads on right before speaking to each other again.

Preferably, he’d be doing something productive, something to lose himself in for a few hours, but he’s not sure he’d be allowed to; the Peggies may be used to seeing him around St. Francis’ now, but that doesn’t mean they trust him, nor does he trust them.

For a brief moment, Garrett entertains the idea of sitting on the roof, like he’d done a couple weeks back until Jacob had told him to knock it off. At the very least it would be semi-productive; checking to see if the daily schedule and guard rotation is still the same.

Or maybe he could go see the Judges in the kennel, although he doesn’t know if they’d be as ecstatic to see him like they were last time. Last time, Jacob had been there with him, and Garrett knows how the Judges basically turn into puppies when Jacob’s around. Just like how he knows Jacob loves it despite how much his grumbling says otherwise.

After a few more moments, Garrett decides he’ll do both; Judges first, so if they end up not liking him he can just go sit on the roof anyway.

\---

Jacob sits by the Judge pen, out behind the veteran’s hospital.

He’s been sitting here since this morning, since that whole… _thing._

He understands where Garrett is coming from. Really, he does. If Jacob were anyone else but himself he wouldn’t fucking _be_ here, but he is and not for the reason Garrett thinks he is.

Garrett thinks Jacob is part of this because he believes what Joseph’s preaching, but the truth is Jacob doesn’t. He’s never bought into the bullshit Joseph is peddling.

The truth of it is, is that Jacob is here because his brothers are; protecting them has been his purpose for as long as he’s been alive and breathing.

If they weren’t then neither would he; it’s as simple as that.

And as long as they’re still here, he won’t leave them. 

Not even for Garrett.

“But you want to, right?” Jacob closes his eyes and grits his teeth at the sound of that voice. “You want to, but you won’t, because of your fucked up sense of loyalty, Seed.”

Rubbing his temples, Jacob heaves out a frustrated sigh. “Do you _have_ to do this _now?”_

Miller just cackles at him.

“This ain’t a doctor’s appointment, pal. You can’t just _reschedule_ because it’s inconvenient for ya.”

Jacob scowls at him, which just makes Miller cackle even louder, his jaw nearly unhinging with the force of it.

“Things would be going better if you weren’t as prickly as a cactus,” Miller says, taking a seat next to Jacob. “I’m actually really envious of you, y’know.”

He watches as Miller’s permanent grin stretches wider, the skin around his mouth splitting and tearing. Unease settles heavily in Jacob’s bones.

“You got to meet your soulmate, and you’re fuckin’ _squandering_ it. I always knew you had a few screws loose, but this is just getting ridiculous.”

Jacob… Jacob doesn’t want to think about that; about Miller having a soulmate.

 _I_ ate _him. I carved off his arm. What if… what if they—_

He slams the brakes on that train of thought; he doesn’t want to know, doesn’t want to think about it.

Jacob’s never been sure if Miller had been completely dead when he stripped layers of flesh and muscle off of him when…

“You’re pissing me off, Seed.” He looks up and wishes he hadn’t, tries to avert his gaze, but a lone skeletal hand holds his head in place, forcing him to watch as Miller starts chewing on his dry, rotten flesh; watches as Miller chews his own damn _face_ off.

And then Miller laughs at him; Miller’s always laughing at him, but instead of sounding like a raspy, sandpaper laugh, it’s like nails on a chalkboard.

“Do you think they felt it? Do you think their own arm tore away in bits and pieces?”

_Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t—_

“You have to,” Miller tells hims, half of his rotting face missing, the other half flapping freely as he talks, sun-bleached teeth stained with old blood. “You think I _want_ to be here?”

“I don’t know what you want,” Jacob rasps, looking just to the left of Miller’s face, so he doesn’t have to see it in its entirety.

“What I _want,”_ Miller bites out, his teeth gnashing together, “is to _sleep._ I’ve been dead and awake and stuck with _you_ for years. I want to sleep, but I can’t leave yet and you know _why.”_

“I don’t,” Jacob tries saying but Miller cuts him off with a loud bellow.

“You do! Don’t lie to me, you sick son of a bitch. You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me,” Miller snarls, boney fingers digging into Jacob’s skin, breaking the surface of it. “You might have these idiots fooled, but you’re a glutton for punishment and wallowing in self-loathing. Now quit fucking about, you’ve got company.”

“Jacob?”

At the sound of a voice that is quickly becoming familiar, Jacob’s head snaps up to see Garrett standing next to him, brow pinched in uncertainty and _how long has he been there, how much has he heard?_

Jacob stares at him, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights and it’s so damn jarring because he hasn’t felt like that since the first time his old man raised his fist against him.

They stare at each other in silence for what feels like an eternity, until Garrett carefully reaches out with one hand, fingers tangling in Jacob’s hair, and pulling Jacob closer with the other. Miller is quiet and Jacob lets out a small shuddering breath, pressing his face against Garrett’s collarbone; it’s quiet.

“What I want,” Garrett says, running his fingers through Jacob’s hair, voice so quiet that Jacob can barely hear it. “What I want is for us to actually _talk,_ because not talking hasn’t done us any favors.”

 _Tell him,_ the words roll around in his skull, in Miller’s hissed voice. _Tell him._

 _Not yet,_ Jacob thinks as he nods against Garrett’s collarbone, his stomach twisting unpleasantly with emotions he hasn’t allowed himself to feel or acknowledge in years; fear, guilt, panic.

There’s an indignant howl of frustration that only Jacob can hear and pretends he can’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> with the announcement of Far Cry New Dawn, i'll be writing up the final part to this series that kind of loosely ties all the stories together, so look forward to that. and can i just say that i'm really looking forward to the next far cry? i need to know who survived fc5 and i love that nick and kim's daughter is a gun for hire (and they named her _Carmina)_


End file.
